Author: KODfreak PM
This is a satrical action story. it is written in script form. Mr Thompson is under attack by Glenn Beck, who wants revenge for he did to him...Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Chapters: 4 - Words: 4,233 - Updated: 03-12-12 - Published: 02-12-12 - id: 2996672
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Script written by Max Puerner
Movie type: satirical action/martial arts film.
(The scene opens with a shot of Mr. Thompson standing in his room, and in the room are tables and chairs, with two students sitting in them. There is a cabinet with a TV on top of it. Mr. Thompson is looking at the camera)
Mr. Thompson: Brent.
(Brent, a short, black haired boy, is sitting in Mr. Thompson's desk chair.)
Mr. Thompson: Brent, come on. We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way.
Brent: I'm not getting up.
Mr. Thompson: Brent, why does it always have to come to this?
(Brent clenches onto the chair. Mr. Thompson quickly reaches over and pulls him off as Brent does a forward flip and Mr. Thompson blocks his round house kick. They proceed to fight. Each one of Brent's punches are blocked by Mr. Thompson. Mr. Thompsons then goes to round house kick Brent, but it is blocked, and Mr. Thompson flips back, and kicks Brent who flies back in the chair. He notices a pair of scissors on the desk, and quickly grabs them. Mr. Thompson dodges all the swipes, then grabs Brent's wrist, and knees it, while at the same time grabbing the scissors. He points them at Brent.)
Mr. Thompson: Now Brent, calm down and take a seat. Brent, go on.
(Brent slowly calms down and takes a seat. The next shot is of the clock, which skips ahead 10 minutes. Brent and the two students leave, but one, Max, turns.)
Max: Every time it seems you take care of Brent. Tell me, where did you learn to fight like that?
Mr. Thompson: Well, teaching is my part-time job. You could say I learned to fight at my other job.
Max: okay. Well, I gotta get to class.
Mr. Thompson: See you later.
(The camera follows mar Thompson as he locks his door and leaves his room. The next teacher over is saying goodbye to his students.)
Captain zesty spicy: So long silly chillies!
(Captain zesty spicy is the name of the substitute. He is a man with short hair. He acts a little strange.)
Mr. Thompson: Hey skip, still subbing for Mrs. Burnham?
Captain Zesty spicy: yes. I heard she has been gone for some time.
Mr. Thompson: Yes, well, you could say she has a lot of work to do elsewhere.
Captain zesty spicy: and how would you know that?
Mr. Thompson: Well, what else could she be doing?
Captain zesty spicy: I suppose you are right.
Mr. Thompson: Listen skip, let's go round up Coleman, and get going to our usual spot.
Captain zesty spicy: ooohhohhoooo! Yeah Yeah!
(The two of them walks over to another hall, where Coleman's room is. They look inside and see Coleman at his desk.)
Mr. Thompson: Coleman, come on! We're all going to the usual spot.
Coleman: naw, come on. I still got to finish up here, and I don't really think I am in the mood.
Captain Zesty spicy: Come on coleslaw!
Coleman: hey, stop calling that!
Mr. Thompson: well come on!
Coleman: well all right (said while getting up)
Mr. Thompson: Ohh right! We need to get Mr. Young!
(The gang walks over to Mr. Young's room. He is talking to a student.)
Mr. Young: I think you need to learn a little respect. Now get out!
(The student walks out with a scowl on his face.)
Mr. Thompson: Hey Young, were all going to the Usual spot, drinks are on me.
Mr. Young: I'm game.
(The next shot is one of a bar, which the sign reads "The usual spot" the immidient next shot is of the four at the bar, sitting on stools, drinking.)
Mr. Thompson: So Zesty spicy is this just some act you put on for the kids, or are you like this every day of the week?
Captain Zesty spicy: well, I do like to play the character more often now.
Mr. Young: zesty, you keep doing this, and all those kids are gonna walk all over you.
Captain Zesty Spicy: Now come on, I don't think that's right.
Mr. Young: Yes, don't you think those immature little punks will simply mock you for this little charade?
(In the back a man is listening to the conversation. He seems to notice Thompson, and walks towards him.)
Man: Yeah, I knows you. Don't pretend to not know.
(Thompson turns around.)
Mr. Thompson: I have no Idea what you're talking about.
Man: Rememba, when yous put that…plant… at glnn becks office (The man is drunk)
Mr. Thompson: you obviously had too many drinks pal.
(The man grabs Thompson and yanks him off the stool, but breaks free, and begins to get into a ti jutsu fight. The man tries to punch Thompson, but each one is blocked. The man fails to kick Thompson has he delivers a blow to the stomach. The man grabs a pool stick. Thompson reaches off camera and grins as he grabs one off screen. The two then fight each other with the sticks. Thompson blocks each swipe, then quick as can be, stick the stick straight into the ground, and swing around it, kicking the man and sending him back into the wall. The man grabs some darts, and throws them at Thompson. Thompson blocks each dart with the stick. The man, now angry, simply charges towards Thompson. Thompson drops the stick and stands still. As the man is about to hit Thompson, Thompson unleashes a swift kick, which sends the man flying back, and crashing through the brick wall. Thompson walks through the hole to the outside parking lot. He walks up to the man who is laying on the ground.)
Mr. Thompson: (yells) Who do you work for?
(The man looks up at him)
Man: gleeeeennnn beh…mmmbehh…..ck.
Mr. Thompson: (murmurs) Glenn Beck.
(The next shot is Thompson in his car pulling up to his house. He gets out, locks the door, and walks up to his front door. He unlocks the door and walks inside. It is pitch black. He turns on a light. Standing right in front of him is his wife, Mrs. Thompson. She is thin, and has blond hair. She has a slight scowl on her face.)
Mrs. Thompson: and where have you been?
Mr. Thompson: nowhere bad. Just with the guys.
Mrs. Thompson: You know I don't like it when you out to drink. You and your friends always get into some kind of trouble.
(Mrs. Thompson walks up to Mr. Thompson. She notices a red spot on his shirt.)
Mrs. Thompson: Is that blood?
Mr. Thompson: It was just a drunk man!
Mrs. Thompson: What!
(Mr. Thompson turns to leave but Mrs. Thompson grabs him to look at his face)
Mrs. Thompson: You killed a Drunk man!
Mr Thompson: I didn't kill him! Or at least I hope not.
Mrs. Thompson: Mark!
Mr Thompson: What was I supposed to do! He was Drunk! He kept talking about how he knew what I did and what ever.
Mrs Thompson: Mark, what did you do?
Mr Thompson: well, it was many many nights ago…